


A Little Tenderness

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 01:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: He can't do a lot, but he can do this.





	A Little Tenderness

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings/Content: Language, angst, hurt/comfort, mentioned past mental ill health and suicide attempt.

“Merlin, Ron, I think I need one of those meat hammers to get these knots out.”  
  
Harry proved a point by putting all of his weight into his hands as he bore down on his boyfriend's shoulders, but there was no give in the muscles at all. Ron didn't say anything either, but he'd forgotten about the mirror that Harry could see his dark expression reflected in.  
  
Sighing, Harry leant over and kissed the top of Ron's head. He smoothed his palms over the shoulders and collarbones he'd been trying to pummel and then wrapped his arms around the redhead from behind.  
  
“You know I love you?” he murmured, taking a sneaky moment to inhale from Ron's hair and take him deep into his senses.  
“Thank Godric someone does.” Ron's response was flat and low.  
“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Asking Ron about food usually perked him up, so Harry thought he'd change the subject.  
“Nothing much. I just want to go to bed truth be told.”  
  
Harry let Ron go as he struggled out of hold and to his feet, where he started peeling off his robes with sluggish, disinterested movements. He looked so miserable that Harry didn't bother to make any snide comments about the way his clothes landed on the floor. By the time Ron had kicked off the last garment and headed for the en-suite he looked as though he was trying not to cry.  
  
Taking a moment for some deep breaths, Harry closed his eyes as he heard the shower turn on. He waited until he heard the curtain rustle and for Ron to let out his usual little moan of pleasure before he got up and lumbered to the door. He waved his wand and set Ron's clothes to tidy themselves away.  
  
“So are you going to tell me what happened today or not?” he asked airily.  
  
He'd wanted to know as soon as the meeting was over, but knew Ron wouldn't take kindly to being badgered in the middle of the Ministry. The fact that he didn't reply told Harry he still didn't want to talk about it. Given his mood Harry thought he could probably guess, but wanted Ron to tell him about it.  
  
He stood and waited, letting the heated air steam him his glasses up. Ron took forever to start to wash himself but eventually the water turned off and the curtain was yanked back.  
  
“More of the same,” he said, and Harry watched his long legs swing out of the bath one by one.  
  
Harry handed over a towel which Ron chucked over his head and rubbed hard. When he emerged his hair was on end and his eyes were bloodshot. He tied the towel about his waist and sniffed.  
  
“Not good enough, not working hard enough, not doing enough to warrant lifting the probation.”  
“Did they say why?” Harry asked.  
  
Personally he thought the hoops that the Ministry were making Ron jump through were excessively cruel, but then he also acknowledged he might have been a tiny bit biased. Ron had been in the wrong when he hid his illness from his employer – from everybody – but they were taking the necessity to 'prove' that he was 'better' way too far.  
  
Harry just felt it was making Ron even more unwell.  
  
“So... what was the outcome?”  
  
Ron was in the middle of brushing his teeth and Harry waited for him to spit. “Another three months of the same. And then another hour-long character assassination to see where we go next.”  
  
Ron slipped past Harry and headed straight for the bed. As expected, the towel was tossed onto the carpet as he climbed into their luxurious bed and collapsed.  
  
Again, Harry didn't comment. He just followed at a distance and then perched on the edge of the mattress.  
  
“Last time you said you'd not go through it again,” he murmured, reaching out to comb Ron's damp fringe out of his eyes. “That enough was enough.”  
“I know I did.”  
“And now you've changed your mind?”  
“I don't know,” Ron half-whispered. “I don't know what to do.”  
  
Even though it was half past seven on a Friday night, Harry got up and rounded the bed. He crawled onto it and stretched out along Ron's back before throwing both an arm and a leg over him. He clung on tight.  
  
He couldn't make their managers do the right thing. He couldn't advocate any more than he already had. But he _could_ lay there and hold Ron through the unjustness of it all and let him know that he was loved.  
  
“I should have just kept my mouth shut,” Ron said despondently. “Let nature run its course.”  
“But then you'd be dead and we wouldn't be together.”  
  
Their relationship had only been tentative when Ron's unwell brain had driven him to a high roof of a tall building. In the aftermath it had shot through confirmed to solidly cemented. It was the only good thing about the whole sad situation.  
  
“And I know you don't feel good enough about yourself to see that you still being here is a good thing, Ron, but believe me, I sure as fuck do.”  
  
He squeezed tightly again and didn't relinquish his hold.  
  
“Thank Godric for you, Harry,” Ron said softly.


End file.
